


Matcha do about nothing

by electric_venus



Category: One Piece
Genre: Idiots in Love, Lots of Ice-Cream, M/M, Oneshot, awful pun as title, short fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:41:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29224128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/electric_venus/pseuds/electric_venus
Summary: For starters, why does Sanji care so much? Because Zoro is the only member of the crew that doesn’t verbalize love for his food?That’s it. That’s the reason, Sanji thinks while nodding to himself, trying really really hard to shut up the tiny voice inside of his head calling him a liar.
Relationships: Roronoa Zoro/Vinsmoke Sanji
Comments: 14
Kudos: 130





	Matcha do about nothing

**Author's Note:**

> Craving ice cream + One Piece rewatch = this
> 
> Unbetaed. Please, be nice <3

The Sunny approaching a summer island means a lot of different things.

Like Luffy, Chopper, and Usopp begging Franky to unfurl the inflatable sea pool at all times. The cyborg likes to act like a cool guy, but in the end, he ends up having as much of a great time as the other three having swimming races and playing in the pool with their donut-shaped inflatables. Dorks.

The ladies of the ship summer fashion: bikinis and colorful beach wraps. Their exposed skins while sunbathing on the main deck’s grass. The entire ship smells like Nami’s citrus sunscreen as soon as the temperature goes a few degrees higher. Brook lively playing a new song on the piano, something about an island inhabited by giant ice-cream cones. They all laugh at the occurrence. Including Sanji.

Summer islands mean that the ship oozes life, more than usual.

And it also means a whole lot of work for Sanji. The difference with summer is that feeding the crew is not only about getting their bellies full, also refreshed. Avocado salad, tuna tartar, cold noodles, grilled meat and vegetables, season’s fruits, and, of course, the king of the season: Ice-cream.

Ice-cream - and summer - seem to lure Sanji’s imagination and cooking skills to new paths: chocolate and mint wafer tulips, melon and watermelon popsicles with little bits of fruit to munch inside, tangerine and mascarpone icecream...the combinations are infinite, and the reward - his friends and crewmates delighted expressions and their praises - is priceless for Sanji.

But, what kind of ice-cream do you make for someone that doesn’t like desserts and sweet things?

Zoro has been Sanji’s personal challenge for a while now. Only in the ice-cream department. That’s all. The passionate cook has been trying to find a flavor that the marimo might enjoy without apparent success. At first, Sanji went for the obvious choice: vanilla and salted caramel. Nothing too excentric, a bit bland but with an interesting addition.

No reaction. At all. A brutal deadpan. The green-haired idiot ate the whole thing in a flash and left. Not even a ‘hm’.

That set Sanji’s rage and pride on fire.

Pistachio and chocolate? Didn’t like it.

Ginger and honey? No reaction again.

Cinnamon ice cream? Luffy ate Zoro’s serving before the swordsman could even try it.

Sanji is starting to go nuts. Why can’t Zoro simply enjoy his food like the rest of the crew? Maybe a “Thank you Sanji, that was delicious” is a bit too much to ask from the marimo, but a simple “It was nice” won’t kill anyone. 

“Stupid moss head, dumb marimo…” - Sanji exasperatedly whispers in the comfort and solitude of his kitchen, putting down a cigarette.

For starters, why does Sanji care so much? Because Zoro is the only member of the crew that doesn’t verbalize love for his food? _That’s it. That’s the reason,_ Sanji thinks while nodding to himself, trying really really hard to shut up the tiny voice inside of his head calling him a liar.

Zoro not stating how good his cuisine is irks every fiber of Sanji’s being. But maybe the reason why Sanji is so focused on finding an ice-cream flavor that satisfies the moss head so much has little to do with his pride and a lot to do with that certain feeling he gets whenever Sanji catches a glance of Zoro’s cheeks full of food. HIS food. 

Or that little jump his dumb heart makes whenever Zoro’s hands seem to linger a little too much and a little too close to his own while the swordsman asks for a refill or another serving.

Or with how much Sanji cherishes the memory of a simple evening, where the two of them only chatted idly, without fights or insults, sharing a drink while waiting for the rest of the crew to come back. When Sanji started explaining how beer is brewed - a topic Zoro is interested in: beer - the swordsman wasn’t hearing, _he was listening_. Genuinely paying attention to the cook’s words, Sanji is still proud that his tongue didn’t betray him.

And the time Sanji taught Zoro how to properly cut fish? It has nothing to do with that either. Nor with how they shared a knife, hand over hand, while Sanji taught Zoro the wrist motion to cut food like a real chef.

And the winter evenings when Sanji _expects_ Zoro to come by and sit in the kitchen because it is the warmest place in the ship? Their idle conversations? The long hours? How Zoro even follows him outside for a smoke in the cold weather?

_No, it has nothing to do with any of that_ , Sanji concludes, nervously tapping his foot against the kitchen floor. He is 100% sure. Only his cook pride, no finer feelings.

“Why has that green pea to be so difficult?” Sanji laments himself. Maybe he is being a little dramatic sulking in his kitchen about ice-cream flavors, but hell, his pride is on a stake. And nothing else.

_Green_ , an idea starting to form inside of his blonde head, his dextrous hands already searching for a certain can in the pantry. _There’s something green I haven’t tried yet_ , with a satisfied smile, he kissed the metallic can. 

  
  
  


“What’s today’s flavor, Sanji-kun?” - Nami asks while looking at Sanji carefully scooping the ice-cream on bowls. He decorates the ladies’ bowls with chocolate straws and some dehydrated tangerine bits.

“Matcha” - Sanji replies. “Simple, but refreshing.” - with his kindest smile, he offered the dessert to Nami.

  
“I’m sure it’s going to be good.” - Robin said while grabbing a spoon to dig into her own bowl. She promptly confirmed her suspicions about the dessert and complimented Sanji on another refreshing success. _That feels good_ , Sanji thought, dwelling on Robin’s words with a sheepish smile.

Sanji gladly watched the girls leaving with their treats. Franky and Brook gave it a try too, their loud “Yohoho~” and “Suuuuper” gave Sanji reassurance, this was going to be a success, he could feel it. The child trio went to grab their own favorite flavors from the fridge: Chopper his usual, cotton candy, while Usopp and Luffy started a fight over the last chocolate and mint scoop. They were lucky, any other day the cook would have scolded both of them for fighting on his refrigeration area, but today Sanji’s mind is focused elsewhere.

It is time. His heart races wild while serving a new bowl meant for the marimo. One scoop, in case he doesn’t like it, and a spoon. Sanji tastes it with his finger before facing the challenge.

_Flavour? Perfect. Not sweet, not salty. Matcha, but not bitter._

_Presentation? Room for improvement, but Zoro won’t even notice it._

_Temperature? Perfect for eating right away._

_Aroma? Delicious._

_Texture? Creamy, soft, homogeneous._

_Color? As green as Zoro’s head._

_All set, let’s go._

With the ice-cream bowl and its contents on his hand as his only weapon, Sanji left the grassy main deck for the forecastle deck, where Zoro likes to nap once the hottest hours of the day have passed over the warm wood planks. _What is he? A cat?,_ Sanji thinks amused with the idea.

And just as he thought. there he is, arms and legs sprawled against the floor. Sanji approached him unsure of Zoro’s awakeness, he seems pretty dozed off, but the swordsman is always alert. Anyway, with careful steps, Sanji reached Zoro and sat close to one of his legs. A ray of sunlight landing over Zoro’s eyes and cheeks, feeble freckles appearing over his nose.

Sanji wanted to stop. To stop staring at those attractive chocolate marks on Zoro’s tanned skin, to stop drooling, to stop his train of thinking, and above all of those things he wanted to stop the itch that had just appeared on his fingers, begging him to touch that face, to caress it, to trace the freckles only to feel if he is there for real, that this is not a product of his flustered imagination. 

Is any of this even real? The salty breeze swelling the sails, the rocking of the ship, distant laughter, and an occasional drop of ocean water over the wood. All of that perfectly tangible. Yet Zoro doesn’t look like it.

Sanji feels like a perfect idiot. This is not, by any means, the first time he sees the swordsman asleep. Yet, that doesn’t stop him from feeling like a teenager, like spring, like a revolution is taking place inside of him. The possibility that the ice-cream melts before Zoro wakes doesn’t even bother him. And it should, right? Because the main reason for this was to make Zoro fell in love with one of his ice-creams and if it melts it won’t be that good.

_Liar_ , the tiny voice speaks yet stronger this time. _Lovesick liar_ , Sanji kept hearing those words while his free hand made contact with the sunkissed skin. 

But the same second Sanji decided to succumb to his finger’s cravings, a flash of gold prevented him to do so. Zoro opened his eyes, sitting up instead of lying. _Not a cat, but a tiger._

What had seemed like a slow-motion dream was now too fast to follow.

With Sanji’s wrist on his hand, Zoro asked. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing” - Sanji says, freeing his wrist in a swift motion. “I just wanted to wake you up, no need to be a jerk about it.”

“What for?”

Sanji lets the bowl on the floor, grudgingly. “Try it.” 

“What’s that?” - Zoro’s voice is still hoarse from the nap.

“Matcha ice-cream, can’t you tell?” - Sanji replies clicking his tongue. He is starting to feel rather stupid, can’t believe he really cared about this.

“I don’t like sweets..”

“It’s not!” - straight up annoyed, the cook attempts to grab the bowl again and leave. “If you are not interested I’ll just leave, moron.” _Is it really so hard for you to make me happy once?_

Sanji isn’t in the mood to let that thought and its implications linger in his brain for long. He had enough.

But Zoro didn’t. With the same flashing speed he used to grab Sanji’s wrist, Zoro grabs his arm, dragging Sanji’s body into his chest before the long-legged cook could stand up from the floor. Sanji’s brain isn’t functioning anymore, but Zoro definitely licked ice-cream from the corner of his lips in a motion way slower than necessary, fixing his dark eyes into his blue ones. Everything is slow again, and Sanji isn’t sure if he likes it this way.

The only things Sanji is sure of right now are: that he stained himself when he tested the ice-cream and that he definitely forgot how to breathe. “Who said I wasn’t interested?” - Zoro whispers, so close to Sanji that he can count the damn freckles. “You were right, it’s not sweet at all”

Sanji’s body bolts from Zoro’s hug because that is the only option the cook has to remain alive. Leaving the forecastle deck at the hastiest pace he can manage without running, he yells; “Glad that you like it!” 

“Thanks for the meal” - Sanji hears Zoro in the distance, probably wearing that stupidly cocky half-smile of his. Those words are the last nail on Sanji’s coffin, but he won’t give Zoro the pleasure of knowing that.

(Instead, he is headed towards his refuge, the kitchen, where he can squeal and hit his head against a wall until his heart is content.)

**Author's Note:**

> a matcha made in heaven *badum tss*
> 
> ok, I'll shut up now.


End file.
